In Marble Halls
by Sar-kaz-m
Summary: DGCain. Not long after the eclipse, Cain has realized that he's fallen for DG. Being a man of action, he decides to do something about it.
1. Chapter 1

Inspirational Song:

_I Dreamt I Dwelt In Marble Halls _(Irish folk song) 

- by M. W. Balfe (1808-1870). 

I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,  
With vassals and serfs at my side,  
And of all who assembled within those walls,  
That I was the hope and the pride.  
I had riches too great to count  
Could boast of a high ancestral name;  
_But I also dreamt, which pleased me most,__  
__That you lov'd me still the same__  
__That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same,__  
__That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same._

I dreamt that suitors sought my hand;  
That knights upon bended knee,  
And with vows no maiden heart could withstand  
They pledg'd their faith to me;  
And I dreamt that one of that noble host  
Came forth my hand to claim.  
_But I also dreamt, which pleased me most,__  
__That you lov'd me still the same__  
__That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same,__  
__That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same._

Two men rode casually through the woods. They didn't look much alike. There was some resemblance about the jaw, and if you knew them, in the stubborn implacability of their characters, but otherwise, you might not guess they were related. 

In fact, the son's looks took after his mother a great deal, instead of his father. 

Wyatt couldn't help but smile a little at his son. Jeb had grown up to become a fine man. In his head, Wyatt sent a little prayer of thanks to his late wife. Though she'd raised Jeb alone, the boy had become everything either of his parent's could have hoped. 

Today, just a few short weeks after the Eclipse and the downfall of the Wicked Witch, the Cain men had taken the time to just ride out together. Ostensibly, they were on patrol, but the O.Z. was falling into line much quicker than anyone could have guessed, and threat to the Royal Family, particularly here in their southern seat of Finacqua, was minimal. 

So the two men rode leisurely, Jeb telling his father all the tales of his life since the family had been torn apart by the Witch's Longcoats. 

After Wyatt had been imprisoned, Adora and Jed had not been executed, as Wyatt had thought. Zero had sent them to a work house in Central City. He visited often, to gloat over them. Once, long ago, Wyatt and Adora and Zero had grown up together. Wyatt and Zero had always been something of rivals, but it wasn't until Wyatt had gone to the Academy to become a Tin Man that their half-friendly rivalry had turned ugly. Zero had not been accepted to attend the prestigious Academy in Central City. Then Wyatt and Adora married, just as the Witch was starting to gain power. Before long, Zero had thrown his lot in with the Witch, and become even more bitter and dark, drunk on power and cruelty. He relished the assignment to imprison Wyatt, who'd in turn become a major commander of the Resistance. Zero then took dark pleasure in Adora's pleas and tears. For three years, he let her beg for Wyatt's release. Then finally, he informed her that Wyatt Cain was dead. 

Jeb smiled as he told his father that Zero's announcement did not have the intended result of breaking Adora Cain. The very next night, Adora spirited herself and her son out of the work house, and out of Central City. Before long, they were bouncing from safe house to safe house. At first, Jeb had thought they were on the run, but he eventually realized that his mother acted as a courier for the Resistance. Adora Cain protected her son, and passed valuable information from cell to cell, helping coordinate the Resistance's efforts. 

But then, she got sick. An illness of the lungs stole her breath, and gave her a hoarse dry cough. Sometimes, she coughed up blood, and they'd have to wait days until she was recovered enough to move on. Jeb took over most of her Resistance work, until finally he accidentally drew too much attention to himself. Jeb and Adora fled southward, crossing the Crack and escaping to the little cabin. 

Jeb explained to Wyatt that Adora was already dying the day Longcoats caught up to them. It wasn't Zero, and Adora wasn't their target, but she tried to fight them to protect her son, and she ended up falling down dead, her exertions causing her lungs to fill with blood. She'd drowned. Jed spent four days in the Tin Suit, staring at his mother's body, before several southern Resistance fighters found him. They freed him, and helped him bury his mother. 

Wyatt was silent, listening to Jeb's tales. Things might have been so different for their family. But he couldn't help but be proud of his son, and his late wife. 

By this time, Jeb had heard all about his father's adventures with the younger Princess. Wyatt didn't speak much about the annuals wasted in the Tin Suit, but Jeb understood that. He'd tasted that punishment himself, and was privately amazed at how sane his father remained despite the annuals of mental torture. He himself had broken down fairly quickly. Any more time trapped, and Jeb Cain would have been a broken man. 

Still, Jeb remembered the bright laughing giant that was his father in Jeb's childhood. Wyatt Cain hadn't had such a grim sharp edge during Jeb's youth. It made Jeb wish to turn back time. His memories, plus the stories his mother had told, didn't match with the silence and steely attitude that characterized Wyatt Cain now. 

Only one thing seemed to make Jeb's father brighten these days: Princess Dorothigale of the House of Gale. 

Jeb had been commanding men and women for the past two years, since his mother died. He knew how to read people. And he knew what he was seeing in his father. Wanting to help, after a few minutes of companionable silence, he spoke. 

"I want to tell you something, but… you have to promise not to get upset." 

Wyatt turned to his son, simply raising a brow. At Jeb's stubborn expression, he finally replied, "I promise I won't get upset." 

Jeb hesitated, then said, "You gotta remember, you were dead. Or at least, we thought you were." 

"Jeb, if this is about not coming back to check, I already told you–"

"No," Jeb interrupted. "That's not it. But a little over a year after we ran from Central City, Mom…. well, she took up with a fellow."

Dead silence greeted that pronouncement.

Swallowing nervously, Jeb went on. "I mean, like I said, she thought you were dead, and she mourned a long time, but then she met Paul, and he was a good man, ran a safe house." He shifted; his horse pranced a little, picking up on his nervousness, and he soothed the animal before continuing. "She always said she loved you, and I never heard her say she loved him, but she knew we had to move on with our lives." Jeb glanced at his father, but couldn't see his face. The older man had dropped his chin, letting the hat cast a shadow and hide his expression.

Jeb waited, but the silence went on. Finally, Jeb said, "Don't be mad at her."

"I'm not," Wyatt answered grimly. "She had to do right by her." He shot his son a sidelong glance, but Jeb couldn't tell what he was feeling. "I suppose you'll tell me this Paul fellow was like a father to you?" There, some bitterness leaked out.

"No! Not at all. I was too old and full of myself then to take much parental type attitude from anyone but Mom. Plus, we left that safe house after I screwed up. I'm pretty sure he's dead now too." Jeb shook his head. "Anyway, I did have a point to telling you this."

With a smirk that was entirely humorless, Wyatt asked, "What's that?"

Jeb straightened his shoulders. If anything, his next words could definitely be considered crossing a line with his father. "My point is that you shouldn't keep living in the past either. You have to move forward."

His father drew his horse to a halt and stared at Jeb. Jeb reined in and met his father's shocked and angry gaze bravely. "I'm just saying, she's gone, and I know it hurts, but it looks to me like you still wanna kill someone over it. You've gotta let it go. She wouldn't want you to keep beating yourself up over it, and plus, if you've got a chance at some happiness now, she'd want you to take it." Wyatt's eyes simply narrowed. Jeb decided he might as well shove his whole foot in it. "I've seen how you look at the Princess when you think no one's watching. Does she know how you feel?"

Had he been any other person in the O.Z., Jeb suspected his father would have gotten off his horse and punched him in the mouth, judging from Wyatt's expression. Instead, the former Tin Man simply reined his horse around and kicked it. The startled animal leaped into a canter, and Jeb had to urge his own mount to catch up.

"Hey! Hang on!" Wyatt ignored him, until Jeb yelled, "Dad!" in a frustrated voice. Then Wyatt pulled up and let Jeb catch him.

"I can see it, Dad," Jeb explained immediately, heading off whatever scolding Wyatt had had in mind. "You're not the same anymore, and I know it's because of the suit. Whatever you did to stay sane, it changed you. And the only times I see you act like you used to, like before, when we were all happy, is when you're with DG. And I'm trying to tell you, I understand, I'm alright with it, and Mom would be too." Jeb sighed, loosing his momentum. "I'm glad you're alive, I'm glad we survived. And now, we all have the right to be happy. I guess I'm trying to say… if DG makes you happy, you should go for it."

For a long time, his father didn't say anything. Then, just as Jeb thought maybe he'd completely misjudged the man who used to be his father, Wyatt muttered, "When did you get so smart?" He didn't look up, and Jeb realized that Wyatt was staring at his wedding ring, still on his left hand. "And since when do sons give their fathers advice?"

Jeb smirked, the expression entirely inherited from Wyatt. "I don't know. But it's good advice, anyway."

Wyatt sighed heavily. "So it is. Come on, let's head back." After a few moments, Wyatt suddenly continued. "She doesn't know. Got any advice what I should do about that?"

Jeb grinned. "You're going to have to court her. Better ask her father for permission."

Wyatt groaned as his son chuckled.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

2

Having your son know that you fancied a woman was a mixed blessing at best, Wyatt decided. Of course, having Jeb's "permission", so to speak, did make him feel better, even though he hadn't consciously thought he'd wanted it. Just knowing that Jeb understood, and that his son didn't despise his father for falling for another woman, gave Wyatt a much better outlook on life in general.

In addition, Jeb had saved his mother's wedding ring, so Wyatt made the final gesture and gave his own ring to his son. Hopefully, someday Jeb would find a girl and settle down too, and then those rings would come in handy.

Unfortunately, Jeb had no better idea how to formally court a woman than Wyatt. He supposed that was a good thing. The last thing he wanted was to take advice from his son in THAT area. Said son was making enough joking comments as it was.

One thing Wyatt did know was that the rules were different for a Princess. The first thing he'd have to do is get the Prince Consort's permission. He wondered if he should ask Glitch if there were any potential pitfalls in courting royalty, but on the other hand, it's unlikely the zipperhead remembered any. Still, getting Ahamo's approval would probably go a long way. After all, he was her father, and he was likely to tell Wyatt right out if the ex-Tin Man was totally out of line.

Wyatt found the Prince Consort in a large airy room that had one entire wall of windows. Ahamo was concentrating on the canvas in front of him when Wyatt entered the room, respectfully removing his hat.

"Ah, Mr. Cain!" Ahamo greeted him cheerfully. "Come and take a look. What do you think?"

The painting depicted three women embracing. The details were deliberately hazy, as if viewed through sunshine and fog, but the central woman clearly had grey hair, and the two framing her had hair like midnight.

"It's very nice," Wyatt said, not comfortable with Art.

Ahamo smiled. "It was a moment I never want to forget." He gave the Tin Man a grin and a wink, and started cleaning up his paints. "So, what brings you here? I gather you're not a big connoisseur of Art…"

"No sir. That is, I'm just not familiar with … Fine Art," Wyatt answered diplomatically.

"'I may not know art, but I know what I like', eh?" Ahamo joked, clearly quoting something, but Wyatt didn't understand. Speaking with the Prince Consort was a little like talking to DG. Wyatt reminded himself that both Ahamo and DG grew up on the Other Side. "Well, you came looking for me, what can I do for you?"

"Well sir, I wanted to ask something of you."

Ahamo grinned again. "Good! My wife and I do want to reward you in some way for all you did to help and protect DG. How about a Dukedom?" He laughed at Wyatt's horrified expression. "No? Maybe Earl instead? Look, you're not getting away with anything less than a Knighthood."

"No, sir! That is, I don't want anything for myself. Not any reward I mean." Wyatt felt unaccountably flustered. This was harder than he expected. Suddenly he felt like a callow boy again. "I wanted your permission to court your daughter," he blurted out.

Ahamo stared at him, surprised. Then he smiled, the wry smile of a father of daughters. "I presume you mean DG? Does she know you're asking?"

"No, sir."

Ahamo's expression indicated he had some thoughts on the situation. "Well, you'd better take that knighthood at the least then, just to smooth the road."

Wyatt asked, "Does that mean you give your permission?"

"Yes yes, of course I do. But be careful; Gale women are stubborn. Better make her think it's her idea. And that's all the advice I'm going to give." He finished packing away his paints and brushes. Just then, a knock came to the door, and a footman peeked in.

"Your Grace! Her Majesty requests that you join her. Oh, Mr. Cain, you're wanted too."

"Well," said Ahamo with an amused expression. "'Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice.' We better go see what she wants."

* * *

When they reached the Queen's study, Ahamo went straight to Lavender's side, kissing her warmly. He took the seat beside her. Wyatt remained standing.

"Mr. Cain," the Queen greeted him with a warm smile. "I'm glad you could come so promptly. My daughter here tells me that I had better check with you before I go handing out titles and such." She indicated DG, seated near the window, with a tilt of her head. DG gave Wyatt a little wave and a cheeky grin.

"I didn't think you'd want to get all fancied up," DG explained.

Ahamo laughed. "I already tried to give him a Dukedom. He turned it down."

The Queen laughed as well, a sparkling sound. "Well, then, what sort of reward would you like, Mr. Cain?"

Wyatt shrugged. "I was just doing my duty, ma'am. I don't need a reward."

"You're going to get one anyway," the Queen warned him cheerfully. "I suppose you don't want any sort of landed title, then?" At Wyatt's quick shake of his head, she continued. "Well, a knighthood, at the very least."

A sudden idea entered Wyatt's head. "Actually, ma'am, I'd just as soon get back to work."

"You were a Tin Man, were you not? Then, perhaps Chief of Central City Tin Men, once the unit is restored? Dean of the Academy perhaps?"

"I don't think I want to go back to that," Wyatt explained. "But… you've given my son a commission in the Royal Guards."

"Yes, he's been given the rank of Commander. A number of his resistance fighters are accepting enlistment."

"Well, ma'am, that works just as well for me too."

Out of the blue, Ahamo suggested. "Seeing how good Mr. Cain is with protection details, why not give him a Commander's commission, and make him Chief of Personal Security?"

The Queen's expression was delighted. "Oh, that is a fine idea, my love! Would you accept such a position, Mr. Cain?"

Wyatt's smile held just the edge of gratitude for the Prince Consort. "It would be my honor, ma'am."

"Wait, what does that mean?" DG asked suddenly.

"It means Mr. Cain will be in charge of choosing, training, and directing all the personal security for the Royal Family," the Queen explained.

DG's eyes got wide. "So, you'll be sticking around?" she asked Wyatt.

"'Fraid so, kid."

DG's grin lit up the room. "That's awesome!"

"Very well. We'll announce it at the Victory celebration next month."

Wyatt bowed to the Royal couple and left the room. DG jumped up to follow him with a wave at her parents. Lavender smiled. "I am glad her friends are willing to stay close. It will help with her transition," she confided in her husband.

Ahamo snorted. "More than you think." He quickly told his wife about his private conversation with Wyatt Cain.

"Oh, my goodness!" Lavender gasped, but she was truly delighted for her daughter. Wyatt Cain was an excellent man, in the Queen's opinion, and certainly she herself was in no position to cast stones when it came to falling in love with commoners. "Well, we'll have to add a Grant to that Knighthood, just to appease the fuddy-duddies in Court."

Ahamo smirked, and leaned over to press a kiss beneath his wife's ear. "Since when do you care about appeasing the fuddy-duddies?" he whispered lowly.

"Never. But it's a mother's duty to make life easier for her daughters," Lavender answered, falsely haughty but a little breathlessly. She put aside the paperwork. It could definitely wait when her husband was in this sort of mood.

* * *

Wyatt heard DG call out to him in the hall, and he stopped to let her catch up.

"Cain! I'm glad you're stay around," she told him, smiling broadly.

"Well," he said, "Things are settling down better than I expected, but there's always going to be a few whack-jobs out there, and you're a pretty big target. Someone's gotta watch your back."

DG made a joking face. "I hope you weren't calling me fat, Cain!"

He chuckled, "No, I'm calling you famous."

"Oh, that's OK, then," DG laughed, looping her arm through his. This cheerful joking they shared had started after the Eclipse. DG had a way about her of setting people at ease, making it alright to let go of past problems and past pain. Wyatt himself couldn't help but be drawn to her. The darkness he carried from the years of imprisonment was constantly beaten back by DG's shining personality. She made him feel alive again, and he loved her for it.

Now, he thought, it was only a matter of getting her to love him back.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

In the week leading up to the Victory Ball, Cain didn't have nearly as much time to banter with DG as he'd like. Being Chief of Security when your boss was throwing a party of epic proportions meant you had a great deal of work to do.

Still, the Queen herself made the exceedingly helpful move of inviting every former Tin Man still living in the land to the ball. This gave Cain the helpful back up of about forty highly experienced men. Most had gone underground after the disastrous famous Last Stand in Central City. Cain himself had been wounded and carried home by two Tin Men who promptly disappeared into the underground. They'd holed up, hid, helped out the Resistance, sometimes even leading it. Most of those who'd defected to the Witch's side didn't dare reclaim their ranks anyway, so Cain didn't have to worry about that.

The guest list was extensive and varied. Everyone from hidden nobles to Resistance scouts to Eastern tribal leaders were invited. Cain had been on hand to witness the arrival of three of the oldest Viewers he'd ever seen in his life. Raw had bent over backwards to welcome and assist these Elders. Glitch was helping as he could. The headcase actually did pretty well in the ideas area, though he never remembered ten minutes later that the brilliant suggestion being enacted was his. Cain rather liked the inherent humbleness of that. These days, Cain considered the zipperhead his best friend.

Finally, the day of the Victory Ball arrived. The grand old ball, held in true Outer Zone tradition, took place at the restored palace of Finacqua. Cain had Royal Guards posted all over the palace, as well as strategically placed checkpoints on a perimeter. He was confident of his security arrangements. Now if he could just get his damned tie to tie right.

* * *

DG did a little spin in front of her mirror. She'd been afraid she would be bundled into some corseted and heavy gown for the Victory Ball, but instead, her mother let her draw up her own dress, and a seamstress worked with the Princess directly to complete it. 

The result was something far more Other-side style than the average O.Z. gown. The neckline was a smooth V shape, front and back, dipping a little lower in the back. It was wide enough to just perch at the outer edge of her collarbone. The sleeves were elbow length, and the bodice fitted to the waist, then flaring to a tea length hem. DG pinned her hair up herself, allowing only a few curls to tumble down her neck. She slipped on the matching pumps. The dress and shoes were a deep royal blue that matched her eyes. The Queen had voted for red, until she saw the design of the dress. Red would have been a bit much.

DG was very proud of the dress. She thought it looked very vintage glamour. Of course, no one understood her when she said that. She'd wanted to design a dress for Azkadelia too, but Az had declined. DG didn't know what her sister was wearing yet.

She left her room to meet up with the rest of her family. Spotting her parents, she hurried down the hall. Pausing, she took in their appearance. "Wow, Mom! You look great!"

Queen Lavender smiled at her youngest's endorsement. The Queen wore a formal gown of white satin, embroidered with green vines and red flowers. A crimson sash embroidered in gold crossed the fitted bodice of the off the shoulder gown, pinned with an enormous diamond broach at her hip. The crown of gold and diamonds perched atop her elaborate coiffure. Beside her, the Prince Consort Ahamo was the perfect foil. He had on crimson trousers with polished black shoes. His white velvet coat had a high collar, and was covered in gold braid and gold buttons. On his breast, several brightly colored medals and ribbons gleamed. DG grinned at them. They were picture-perfect.

"You look lovely too, DG," her father told her. "As does your sister."

DG turned to see Az approaching. The elder princess was dressed very demurely. Her full length silk dress was the color of sage. The silk made a wide scoop neck, but even finer translucent cream colored silk formed a partelet with a high buttoned collar. Long sleeves ended in gracefully ruffled bells, and the ruffles were repeated on the hem of the skirt. Az's hair was loosely swept back and coiled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her entire appearance was graceful, lovely, and demure, and a complete opposite of every image of the Witch who'd oppressed the O.Z.

"Oh, Azkadelia, my darling! You look so beautiful," said the Queen. DG understood the enthusiasm. Az had resisted appearing at the ball. She had convinced herself that the people of the O.Z. would never forgive her. But the Queen had been adamant that the Royal Family appear united, and certain that once they did so, the people of the Zone would come to forgive.

"Now that we're all ready, we can go down. Ready, girls?" The Queen and her husband led the way. DG grinned at Az before grabbing her hand.

"We'll go together," she whispered, and Az smiled. Their magic glowed from their joined hands.

As they descended the grand staircase to fanfares and heralds crying their names, DG blinked at the crowd.

"Wow."

Az leaned closer. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Something a lot more formal." DG stared wide-eyed at the assembly. From kilted Resistance Fighters to feathered Easterners, the attendees were a mixed bag of all the diverse people of the Outer Zone. The main foyer boasted two bubbling fountains of light white wine. A guest had only to hold out a glass under the falls. Round tables of appetizers dotted the room. DG knew that later, a more involved buffet would open in the grand Dining Hall. Beyond the foyer lay the great Ballroom. Already she could see people dancing to the orchestra playing at the far end. The entire palace of Finacqua was designed for enjoyment and entertainment. As the Royal family joined the assembly, people cheered and applauded.

But when Azkadelia's name and titles were announced, a hush flowed across the room. DG felt Az tense beside her. But then, a voice cried out from the crowd.

"Three cheers for the Princess Azkadelia, freed from the Witch's evil power! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" Glitch shouted and applauded loudly from the foot of the stairs. He wore a handsome crimson frock coat, looking very much like the Ambrose of old, despite the gleaming zipper still marring his scalp. By the second hurrah, several people had joined in, and by the third, most of the foyer was applauding. Azkadelia flushed and ducked her head. DG's approving grin went a long way towards making the assembly feel better about the ringing endorsement of the woman whose face the Witch had worn for many years. DG could see tears in her mother's eyes, and the Queen paused to give Glitch a thankful squeeze on the arm as she passed him.

DG and Az followed their parents into the Ballroom, where another fanfare preceded them. The Queen moved to the orchestra dais, stepping up to address the guests.

"My people! I am so delighted to welcome you all here. For many years, we have faced great sadness. I know that many of you have suffered. Do not doubt that I have suffered with you. Through tragic accident, my eldest daughter was possessed by an ancient evil. A Witch of the Dark, once imprisoned, was inadvertently freed. She took possession of my daughter, and wore her like a cloak as she went about her vile plot to take over the Outer Zone and plunge all into everlasting darkness." The Queen's voice shook with her regret and her horror, making every person there feel the pain of loosing a child to evil. "The Witch, in her fear of the Light, undertook to murder my younger daughter. I was able to use my power to save the Princess Dorothigale, but in that moment, I had to make a terrible choice. In saving Dorothigale, I sacrificed my own power. But that sacrifice gave us, the people of the O.Z., a chance. I had the opportunity to try and save BOTH my daughters and my people and my kingdom. Dorothigale was sent to the Other Side, to grow strong and clever, while I worked to ensure the Witch's plans could be disrupted at every turn. I know many of you believe that I did nothing, or that the Witch's machinations went unchecked. I tell you now, without such subterfuge as I arranged, her evil would have been even greater still. Now, at long last, we see the fruition of such desperate plotting. Princess Dorothigale has returned to the O.Z., and was able to free her sister from the Witch's vile possession. Together, my daughters used their magic to defeat the wicked Witch, and the O.Z. is safe again!"

The crowd roared with cheers. Many people gave Azkadelia a speculative look, as if reconsidering their view of her. DG hoped it meant fewer people would be baying for her blood.

Then the party really got rolling. DG watched her mother, ever gracious and regal, as she walked among the guests and greeted each with genuine pleasure. For a while, DG stuck close to Az, and just tried to take in the crowd.

"What do you think?" Az whispered.

"There's a lot of people in hats," DG observed. "I see a lot of men wearing hats like Cain's."

"Yes, Mother invited every former Tin Man in the realm. She's reinstating all of them." Az explained. That's when DG realized that all the men had silvery tin stars pinned to their coats. They appeared to be a diverse bunch, but every man had that look of calm competence. "And there is yours. Though he's not really a Tin Man anymore." Az pointed.

DG's jaw dropped a little. There was Cain, the first time she'd seen him all evening. He wore black – new black fedora, black trousers, black boots, and a black frock coat with silver buttons. Underneath the frock coat, DG could see a white shirt and a vest of silver brocade. On his breast was pinned a medal, royal crimson and gold. He stood with two other Tin Men. When he saw her looking, he gave her a slight smile and touched his hat.

"He looks like something out of an old west movie," DG muttered. Az frowned, not understanding the reference. DG didn't mind, she was too busy being surprised. Who knew that Wyatt Cain could clean up so handsome?

* * *

When he caught DG staring, he couldn't hold back a little smile. Cain hadn't gotten this prinked up since his own wedding, but DG's reaction was as gratifying as Adora's had been, all those years ago. 

The two men with him were the two that had carried him home after the Last Stand. They'd been catching up on the lost years.

"Lookit," the one to Cain's left said, called Johnson. He was a much older man, grizzled and grey, but as lean and quick as an old wolf. "The Princesses."

Johnson and the other reinstated Tin Man, a man about Cain's age named Ryan, both tipped their hats to the Princesses. DG grinned at them impartially while Azkadelia blushed and bobbed a small curtsey. The royal ladies moved off to continue making social rounds.

"I dunno," said Ryan. He'd fought in the Resistance. "I heard what the Queen said. And sure, she don't look much like the Sorceress no more. But still…"

"Hey," Cain replied, giving the man a stern look. "I was there, you can take my word for it. The Witch possessed the princess. It wasn't Azkadelia who took over. She's as much a victim as the rest of us."

Johnson elbowed Ryan before the younger could respond. "Your word's good, Cain, always has been. It's just, you know, ten years to get past."

"It's been fifteen for her," Cain growled, and walked away. He could hardly believe himself, defending Azkadelia to her detractors, but at the same time, he couldn't help it. She was DG's sister. DG loved her, and the Viewers backed up the truth with their special vision.

Speaking of Viewers, there was Raw with Glitch, over by the dais, and Cain went to join them. Soon the Queen would be making her announcements, and he'd have to stand up there and receive formal thanks with the others.

The ceremonies were tedious to Cain's mind, but fortunately the Queen wasn't inclined to make more flowery speeches. He remembered that about her from before; the O.Z.'s Queen was relatively plain-spoken, one of the many reasons she'd been so popular with the common people. That and marrying a Slipper.

She called up Raw, Glitch, and Cain all together. "These three men helped and supported my younger daughter in her trials and quest, and helped overthrow the evil Witch that possessed my elder. Therefore, know that they have my truest gratitude, and are all Advisors to the Crown." She proceeded then to knight Raw and name him Ambassador to the Court for his people. Then she knighted Glitch, confirming his identity as a nobleman and restoring his rank as Royal Advisor.

When she turned to Cain, he knelt, and let the words elevating him to Knighthood wash over him. But then, the Queen did something he did not expect.

"In addition," she announced, "We elevate this Knight by Letters Patent, confirming and Granting the rank of Lordship to him and his forever. Commander Cain?" Jeb stepped up to the dais, his face reflecting the shock of his father's expression. Jeb also knelt, and the Queen presented them with an ornate scroll, the Letters Patent confirming the Cain family as Nobility of the Outer Zone. "Also, we appoint Sir Wyatt as Colonel in our Army, and assign him the duties of Chief of our Royal Security." At that point, Cain was startled enough to glance up at her. Colonel was just short of General. It was a much higher rank than he'd expected. It was all more than he expected.

"Rise, my lords, and be recognized." With that, the Queen accepted their bows, and waved them off to be congratulated. Cain's first impulse was to look at DG, and the proud grin on her face did much to reconcile him to this change in his rank.

He and Jeb were surrounded by well-wishers as the Queen announced that the ceremonies were complete, and the dancing began.

"Dad," Jeb hissed in his ear. He turned to look, and Jeb looked completely shell-shocked. But before he could say anything to his son, Cain was attacked by a vision in blue.

"Yay!" DG crowed as she hugged him, drawing chuckles from many Tin Men around them. "I'm so happy for you! And you too, Jeb!" She also flung herself at Cain's son, thus completely embarrassing him.

"Uh, thanks Princess," Jeb choked out. He disentangled himself as quickly as possible. DG let him with good grace, turning back to Cain.

"You knew," Cain accused her, seeing the smugness in her face.

"I had a pretty good idea. Mother wanted to make sure that something incredibly visible was done. Raw couldn't stand the attention, and Glitch would cause a diplomatic incident. It was going to be you whether you liked it or not." Her grin turned wry. "Plus, you know, I might have mentioned how much I relied on you that whole time. It's not just symbolic, you know. Mother says noble actions are more important than blood. She's not too happy with some of the nobles who just packed up their portable wealth and left their people to suffer. There's going to be some empty castles soon, you'll be able to take your pick."

Cain shifted, a little uncomfortable with all the political ramifications of the elevation. He knew, even more than DG, what his ennoblement meant. It meant that if he did win her, no one could complain that the Princess married a commoner. But more, it meant he just became a player in Zone politics.

On the other hand, that might be a good thing. He could think of some ways to shake up things.

The orchestra swung into a lively tune, and the attention of most attendees turned to watch the Queen and Prince Consort waltz lightly across the floor. The Ball had officially begun. Shortly afterwards, to the surprise of many, Glitch led Azkadelia to the floor. The zipperhead's rhythm certainly appeared to be inherent rather than intellectual, as the pair gracefully followed in the Royal Couple's wake.

DG grinned up at Cain. "So, Sir Wyatt. Are you ready to do your duty and risk your toes in service to the Crown?"

"I'm sure you're a better dancer than that," Cain answered doubtfully.

"No, I'm not," DG contradicted cheerfully. "But you have to just the same."

Cain offered his hand, leading DG to the dance floor. His hands tingled with anticipation of holding her in his arms.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Where do you shop to outfit your Wyatt Cain? check out W W Merc dot com or Western Emporium dot com for all your Wild West and Victorian Era wardrobe needs. :-) Kidding really, not a real ad. But I did have fun perusing both sites, and getting wedding dress ideas for myself…. 

Johnson is played by Sam Elliot of course, as always. See the film "Tombstone" for references. He gets to live in this fic. :-) I'm not sure yet who plays Ryan.


	4. Chapter 4

DG was a better dancer than she'd given herself credit for. Additionally, Cain had a strong lead. Adora had loved to dance, and therefore Cain had more skill than one would expect. He also found that if he distracted DG with talk, she relaxed more and stopped worrying about her feet.

During the first waltz, DG's smile was tentative. Cain danced with her twice more before relinquishing her hand to Glitch.

As the orchestra played dances for the nobility, Cain watched as DG danced with Glitch and then Ahamo. The Queen accepted the invitations of many noblemen, but Cain was pleased to see DG beg off dancing with anyone except her friends and family. Unfortunately, Cain noticed that very few sought Azkadelia's hand. Feeling again the need to defend her, Cain crossed to where the sage-clad princess stood by the dais.

"Princess," he greeted her solemnly.

"Mr. Cain. Or rather, Sir Wyatt. Are you enjoying the ball?" Azkadelia spoke softly.

"I am, though I don't know many of the dances," he told her, his tone friendly and deliberately pitched to allow the nosy listeners to hear clearly.

"I understand that more popular dances will be in the next set," Azkadelia replied in a slightly louder voice. A slight smile hovered over her lips. She could tell what he was doing.

The orchestra began another simple waltz. "Fortunately, Your Highness, I do know the waltz. If you would honor me?" Cain held out his hand with a slight bow.

Azkadelia blushed, pleased. "I would be delighted, Mr. Cain."

Cain led Azkadelia onto the floor, and the elder princess danced like the very model of demure grace. To be sure, dancing with Azkadelia was a political statement, but that consideration paled compared with the grateful smile on DG's face as Cain and Azkadelia swept by her.

The orchestra took a break, and the crowd surged and mingled as people replenished drinks and conversations. Since the Queen busily introduced DG to dozens of guests, Cain took the opportunity to do a quick tour of the guard stations. No one reported any problems, not even a drunken guest. He stopped by the kitchen, only to be chased away by the Head Chef in full panic mode. To Cain's eyes, preparations for dinner for five hundred seemed to be well in hand, but Chef shouted at anyone not kitchen staff to dared invade. Dinner for all the guests would be served after the second set.

The music resumed after a little more than a half-hour, and this time the dance floor filled with Resistance Fighters and commoners as the orchestra swung into a popular bransle.

Cain slipped through the crowd to stand at DG's shoulder.

She glanced up at him with a smile. "This looks like fun."

Cain nodded. "Your sister told me the second set is going to be more popular dances, instead of traditional."

"Do you know them?"

Cain nodded, then gave DG a teasing look. "Are you angling for a dance, Princess?"

"Maybe. Think I can handle it?"

"We'll see," Cain answered, and taking her hand in his, swung her out onto the floor.

This time, Cain didn't even make a pretense to releasing his partner. He kept DG on the dance floor with him, making her laugh and relishing the feel of her hand in his, the warmth of her back through her dress against the palm of his hand. At one point, Glitch and Azkadelia spun by, the other princess laughing for the first time all evening.

Then, a violinist stood, and played a flourish that had everyone cheering. "Jump dance! Jump dance!" was cried around the room.

"What's this?" DG asked breathlessly.

Cain shook his head. "I don't know if you want to try this one, Princess. It's a little complicated."

"You know it, right?" When he nodded, she continued, "Well, Cain, I can trust you to keep me from making a fool of myself, right?"

Cain rolled his eyes. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Couples formed circles, a smaller one within a larger one. Cain positioned himself and DG in the ranks of the smaller circle. When he placed her hands on his shoulders, her wide blue eyes met his. He couldn't help but flex his fingers as his hands rested on her waist, feeling her slender form. Her expression was eager and excited.

The music started, and Cain swung her about and into the dance. Then, just as the violin made a swooping climb of notes up, all the men lifted their partners into the air with a cry.

DG shrieked and laughed as Cain lifted her. Her hands clutched his shoulders. "You have to jump," he shouted to her over the wild music and the laughter of the dancers. The next time, she was ready, and she sprang upwards as he lifted her. Her delighted grin warmed him.

With every repetition of the theme, the music sped up a little. One by one, couples dropped out as they stumbled or became exhausted. Eventually, DG stumbled, falling against Cain, and they laughed together as he led her to the sidelines. They watched until only three couples remained, and one of those couples was Jeb and a redheaded woman in a green southerner's kilt. The music ended with a flourish, and the crowd cheered for the last three couples standing.

A Tin Man waved at the conductor, passing him some platinum and a request. The conductor grinned, and spoke to the orchestra. When they began to play again, Cain groaned and shook his head.

"What is it?" DG asked, clinging to his arm.

"Axe handles," was all he replied.

Johnson appeared next to Cain. "Come on, young 'un," he hollered, tugging on Cain's coat.

"Absolutely not!" Cain resisted, pulling himself free. "I'm too old, you're too old. I'm not about to go ass over teakettle in front of the Queen."

Johnson laughed, moving away. Ryan popped out of the crowd.

"You out?" he asked Cain.

"Of course I am! Why, you still in?"

"Hell yeah," Ryan flashed a grin and went out onto the floor. Men, mostly younger men, were gathering in the center of the dance floor. Onlookers were clapping along with the music. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

"Cain, what's going on?" DG asked.

Cain drew her close and led her to the floor. "Just watch."

With a triumphant cry, an elderly Duke was escorted onto the floor by a young Resistance fighter. Smiling cheerfully, the Duke surrendered his cane to the young man, as the young man's girl took the Duke's arm to replace the cane's support.

The Tin Men and Resistance fighters cheered and formed a clapping circle. Cain spotted the Queen, Ahamo, Azkadelia and Glitch on the dais, where they had a good view. Even the Queen was clapping.

The first young man waved the cane in the air, and then in a sudden move, grabbed either end of the cane in his hands and leapt upward, passing the cane below his feet, front to back. Pressed against his side, Cain could feel DG's gasp and then laughter. The first young man managed three jumps before stumbling, and surrendering the cane to the next.

Ten men of various ages took center floor to try to jump the cane. Ryan managed four before stumbling. "It's usually done with an axe," Cain explained in DG's ear.

Finally, a young man with cropped dark hair took the cane. He managed ten consecutive jumps to the delight of the crowd, with only a single bounce on his toes between each, to whip the cane around to his front. Onlookers started cheering, calling him the winner, when someone shoved Jeb Cain onto the floor.

DG and Cain exchanged glances. Cain didn't know his son could leap axe handles. He remembered showing a very young Jeb how it was done, back when the family was all together. He felt a surge of nostalgia as Jeb unbuttoned his uniform coat, handing it to the redheaded woman to hold.

Jeb took the cane and waited a moment. Then with a smooth vertical jump, he passed the cane beneath his feet. But then, the moment his feet touched the floor, he bounced upwards again, and passed the cane from back to front!

The crowd roared as Jeb repeated the feat four more times, first front to back, then back to front. Finally, he stopped, raising the cane over his head as the music crescendoed to a finish. The onlookers surged forwards, many Tin Men slapping him on the back and congratulating him. Jeb returned the cane to the elderly Duke with a bow, and the old nobleman shook Jeb's hand vigorously.

"Come on!" DG gave Cain's arm a yank, pulling him forward to join the throng. All over the room people were talking about Jeb's amazing feat.

When they reached Jeb, DG cried, "That was amazing!"

Jeb smiled. "I wasn't sure I could still do it!"

Cain clapped a hand to his son's back. "Had to one-up your old man, didn't you?"

"Last I heard, you're still the only man to do fifteen consecutives jumps," Jeb pointed out. DG's eyes widened as she looked up at Cain in amazement.

"That was a long time ago, son," Cain said ruefully. Jeb laughed.

The orchestra started up again, and people cleared off the floor so others could dance. Cain and DG stepped off to the side.

"You alright, princess?" Cain asked. "Do you need a drink, or anything?"

DG shook her head. "No, but I'm having a great time! I was afraid the ball would be all formal and stuffy. That's what they're like back home, I mean, on the Other Side. Balls are fancy and formal, but this is more like a country dance."

Cain nodded. "I understood from your mother than balls just for the nobility are more formal, but she wanted this to be about everyone in the O.Z."

DG smiled, her eyes going to where the Queen and Ahamo stood, chatting with guests. Cain sensed a change in her mood and moved a little closer.

"What is it, DG?" he asked softly.

Her eyes flicked to his, a wryly grateful smile curving her lips at his use of her name. "I'm just… I don't remember really being a 'princess'. I know it, in my head, but I don't feel like one. I guess, tonight is making me feel a lot less worried, you know? Because I'm having fun. I really didn't expect to have fun." Her smile widened, grew sweet. "A lot of that is thanks to you, Cain. Really." She didn't hug him, but instead took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

Giving in to impulse, Cain lifted her hand and gently kissed the back of it. DG's eyes widened in surprise. "Any time, Princess," he said with a smirk. She must have decided he was teasing her, because she grinned.

"Come on, let's dance some more," she said.

Later, when the guests were seated for dinner, DG refused to let him go, and invited Jeb and his girl, who's name was Claire, to join the Royalty. Soon, they were all seated with the Queen and Ahamo, and Azkadelia with Glitch at her side. The meal was served on large platters, several at each table, and was shared around by the guests. People were frequently standing up and visiting other tables to have conversations. Spontaneous toasts were common.

DG laughed and smiled with her family, but Cain kept an eye on her. Now that he knew she felt nervous about her place in the Royalty, he silently promised her that he'd do everything he could to help her. He loved her even more for it. He found it oddly comforting that the young woman who charged heedlessly into danger swinging a stick could feel nervous about pomp and ceremony and nobility. He didn't want to see the DG he knew and loved disappear into some idealized figure of a princess. He knew that the Queen would never force DG to be something she wasn't, so although DG might still have to face the expectations of the people and nobles of the Zone, she'd never be deliberately forced to change by her own family.

The ball ended well. Cain danced with DG several more times before the end of the evening. He also escorted her to her room. She yawned and leaned against him as they walked down the hall.

"Thank you, Cain," she said with a sleepy smile when they reached her room. "I had a great time thanks to you." She bid him good night and closed the door behind her.

Cain quickly changed clothes and did a round of the security checkpoints. Many guests were being put up in the palace itself, but some left for nearby accommodations. Once satisfied all was well, Cain did one last turn around the gardens to make sure no one was passed out or hiding.

By the groundskeeper's shed, he spotted an axe leaning up against the wall. Glancing around, Cain made sure no one could see him. Then he set aside his hat, holster, and overcoat. Gripping the axe tightly, he bounced once on his toes, and leapt over the axe handle.

Smiling at himself, he set the tool aside and gathered up his things. Not so old after all, he decided.

TBC

_A/N So, the jump dance is basically made up, but the axe-handles thing is stolen from the movie musical "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" and anyone who doesn't think Russ Tamblyn was a brilliant dancer will be shot. That movie was made in 1954 when he was 21, and in 1986 Russ appeared on an episode of the tv show "Fame" and he could STILL jump the axe handle._


	5. Chapter 5

"What do pretty girls like?" Glitch asked.

"What?" said Cain, startled.

"What?" Glitch blinked, confused.

"Are you asking me?" said Cain.

"Asking you what?" Glitch had a perplexed frown on his face now.

"You said 'What do pretty girls like' and I thought you were asking me."

"Oh." Glitch thought about it for a moment. "Maybe I was."

"Well, don't ask me, because I don't know." Cain turned away, looking out over the grounds.

Glitch was silent for a few minutes, then sighed audibly and said, "What do pretty girls like?"

"Glitch!"

"What!" The zipperhead jumped at the annoyed volume of Cain's yell.

"I told you I don't know. What pretty girl are you talking about anyway?" The ex-TinMan wondered if he had a rival in the former Advisor.

"Oh. Um," Glitch blushed, and answered, "Azkadelia."

Cain's brows rose in surprise. "Really." He chewed that revelation over in his mind a few moments, then said, "You shouldn't wonder what women like in general. You should think of something she would like specifically."

"Oh!" replied Glitch, as if the concept were entirely new. He tapped his chin with his finger then announced triumphantly, "I have no idea."

Cain rolled his eyes, but then looked towards where the two princesses sat together in the garden. They were laughing at something, and near them, Toto was sitting primly, trying to look as dignified as a twelve pound fluffy terrier can look.

"A pet," Cain told Glitch.

"What?"

"Get her a pet. A dog. Something that'll love her unconditionally."

Glitch's eyes lit up. "Brilliant! Sometimes, Cain, you are almost as smart as me!" The zipperhead hurried off.

Cain snorted to himself. "Yeah, smart as you," he muttered. But actually, the conversation had given him an idea.

* * *

"Don't peek," he ordered her.

"Cain," DG whined, laughing. She had a scarf tied around her eyes, and one hand outstretched, feeling for obstacles, while her other hand clutched his arm. He'd convinced her to trust him by telling her he had something to show her, but it was a surprise. All the way from her chambers, he'd led her to the stables adjacent to the palace. Vehicles were kept here as well as horses.

It had been two weeks since Cain's conversation with Glitch about what women like. He hadn't heard of any presents for Azkadelia lately, but Cain had arranged something special for DG. And he hadn't bothered to get permission. He figured it was going to be his problem no matter what, anyway.

DG had laughed and let him blindfold her, and had leaned trustingly against him as they walked. He savored the feeling of her warmth beside him, just as enticing as it had been at the ball a month ago.

A horse whinnied, and DG's head came up. "Are we in the stables?"

"Almost there," Cain told her.

Finally, he slipped free of her hand only to take her shoulders and turn her slightly. "Ready?" She nodded, and he slipped the blindfold off her.

DG gasped at the sight before her. Not one, but two gleaming black machines stood there, glimmering in the sunlight. Cain had pulled some major strings to get two brand new veloci-bikes sent over to the palace. Officially, on the requisitions, they were listed as necessary equipment for the guards unit stationed at Finacqua, but in reality, he wanted to give one to DG as a surprise. Cain had heard her descriptions of her 'motor-cycle' from the Other Side when she talked to Azkadelia about growing up there, and he knew she missed the fun and freedom of riding it. He'd recognized right away that the machine she described, and the fast first-response machines used by the Tin Men in Central City were practically identical.

She stepped forward as if in a dream, hands reaching out to caress the black leather seats and the gleaming metal pipes. For a moment, she let her hands linger over the bikes, then she turned to him. "Oh Cain," she sighed, and the look on her face was enough reward for him. Her eyes were shining as a grin played across her lips. "For me?"

"One of 'em, at least. The other's so I can keep up with you." He smirked at her, as she realized he meant for her to ride her own.

"Cain!" DG launched herself at him, leaping up to throw her arms around him in a hug. He just laughed and hugged her back. "Thank you! Thank you so much! It's beautiful!" He let her go with a smile and she went back to start going over the bike inch by inch. "This is so awesome." She paused, looking up at him. Her smile turned into something special, full of wry affection, and his heart gave a little stuttering thump. "Only you would think of something so perfectly ME to give me."

Cain reached up to adjust his hat, trying to hide the rising blush her compliment caused. "Well, I think I know you pretty well now, princess."

"That you do!" DG agreed with a laugh. "Now I know why you said it was a good thing I'm wearing jeans today!" she pointed out teasingly. Cain had made the comment about her attire when he'd met her in her room. It would have been much harder to find a way to convince her to change clothing if she'd already been wearing a dress. One doesn't ride a veloci-bike in a dress. But since she'd already been wearing her OtherSide pants and a newly created shirt, a rosy colored thing that complimented her skin, it had been easy to get her to throw on her leather jacket when he'd told her he had a surprise for her.

"So, want to go for a ride?" Cain suggested, trying to control his expression.

DG let out a yelp of delight. She immediately tossed a leg over the bike seat and settled in with a little wiggle that made Cain cough suddenly. He went over to her and showed her every control and indicator on the machine.

Pulling out a pin, he said, "See this?" At her nod, he continued, "This is the gear pin. Without it, you only have three gears."

"How many do I have with it?"

"Seven." Her grin at this information was almost dangerous. Cain realized he had a speed demon on his hands. He immediately pocketed her gear pin, then pulled his own and did the same thing. "Let's take it easy at first." She gave a little moan of disappointment and pouted out her lower lip. For one wild moment, Cain had to restrain himself from leaning over and kissing her. Then he said, "As soon as I think you've got the feel of the bike, you can have it back. I don't know what your motor-cycle was like, so I can't guess how different the bike's going to be."

DG gave up with good grace, sighed and said, "I know, you're just looking out for me." Despite her put-upon tone, the glint in her eyes told him she understood his caution.

"Once I know you can handle it, I'll fill out a bike rating card for you and file it. Then you can ride any bike in the Zone." He paused, then reached out to grab her shoulder. "DG, listen to me. You have to promise me that you'll only go out on the bike with me, or with one of the other guards." Her eyes widened at his serious tone. "There are still people in the O.Z. who might want to hurt you, or kidnap you to force your mother into something. Promise me you'll never go out alone."

He held her gaze for a long moment, trying to impress the importance of this on her. He knew he was taking a risk giving her the bike. While he didn't expect her to simply fall off it or have an accident, he was more worried about her going off on her own. The idea of her going off alone and getting kidnapped or killed terrified him more than anything. At the same time, he knew the bike was the best possible gift he could give her.

"I promise, Cain, I will never go out on the bike alone," DG said solemnly. Not even a hint of mischief or secrecy lurked in her eyes, and so he trusted that she understood what he meant by requiring this promise.

"Me, or a guard. Your sister, much as I respect her, doesn't count."

"You or a guard," DG nodded. Then, to his everlasting shock, she stood up and planted a kiss on his cheek. Before he could react, she jumped back on the bike and bounced a little in place. "Now let's GO already!"

He wordlessly got on the other bike. He cleared his throat, then said, "Alright. Start it up." If his voice was a little husky, DG didn't seem to notice.

Following his directions, DG and Cain pulled out of the stables side by side. He kept them to a slow pace until they got out onto some of the old roads around the palace, then he picked up speed. He was pleased to see that DG was a more than competent rider; she could give some Tin Men a run for their money. After about an hour, he waved for her to pull over as the old road cut through a clearing. She pulled up next to him, and her grin was brighter and happier than he'd ever seen it.

"I think I can give you this back," he said, reaching across to slip the gear pin back in its slot on the control panel. "You're as good as any Tin Man."

"What do you use these for?" She asked.

"First response. No horses in the City," he explained, "So the bikes are faster, plus can get in more places. There are some pretty tight alleyways in parts of Central City."

DG nodded. "We have motorcycle cops too, on our highways. They're as fast, if not faster, than most cars." She leaned over to look at the bikes. "The best 'cycles have a Vee twin engine, like a Harley Davidson."

"A who?"

"It's a kind of motorcycle," she said with a giggle. "Most people just call them 'Harleys'."

"What kind did you have?" he asked.

"Oh, I had an old Sixty-Four Honda See Two Hundred that I bought off a guy in town. He didn't know what he had, really, and I was able to fix it up. I always wanted something really classy, though, like a Sixty-Five Harley Panhead, or maybe even a Forty-Seven Indian Chief." Her voice trailed off when she noticed the lost expression on Cain's face. "Nevermind," she said with a chuckle. "I'd have to go back home and get a box of motorcycle magazines to educate you properly." She sighed a little, caressing the bike between her legs. Cain struggled for composure – she couldn't possibly know how erotic she was acting. "I used to dream of making enough money to buy a Jesse James original and ride all the way up to Laconia for Bike Week," she said wistfully. "That's in New Hampshire, and they don't have to wear helmets there." Then she grinned. "Of course, I don't have to wear a helmet HERE, so it's just as good!"

He couldn't help but smile in return though he worried a little. DG didn't realize it, but she had a tendency to refer to the Other Side as home. He wished she could feel comfortable enough to be at home in the O.Z.

"So, what does this bad boy run on?" DG asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Gas? Steam? What powers it?"

"Oh, a power cell."

DG blinked. "Do I have to fill a tank or plug it in or something?"

Now Cain had the confused expression on. "No, it just… runs. I've never heard of one running out of power. You could ask Glitch."

"Think he'd remember the answer?"

"No idea."

"Oh well. Doesn't matter. I LOVE the technology here. Believe me, if we could get Zone technology on the Other Side, we could make a FORTUNE." She started up the engine again. "Ready?" she shouted over the roar.

Cain simply nodded, starting up his bike and leading off. He let them roam further afield, finding places where they could go fast. Every time he checked, DG's face wore an expression of pure joy. Finally, he set them on the road back to the palace.

He had her park the bike back in the stables. He'd arranged to garage the bikes in an area between the horses and the vehicle bays. It was late enough in the afternoon that DG would have to rush if she wanted to shower before the Royal family sat down to dinner together. But before she left him, she threw her arms around Cain one more time, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you so much," she whispered to him. "That was the best afternoon I've spent here yet." She kissed him again on the cheek, then went running off with a wave. Cain just stood staring in the direction she'd gone for a while, feeling the place where her lips had pressed burn with lingering sensation.

* * *

Several days later, Glitch presented Azkadelia with a fluffy white puppy that soon became the toast of the Palace. Even Cain crouched down to pet the leggy furball.

"A hill-guarder. Where did you find one?" Cain asked Glitch.

"His Excellency put me in touch with a woman in the Realm. She'd been a breeder up north before the Witch, and took her dogs with her into hiding."

The puppy licked Cain's hand and threw itself down to expose its belly for a rub. Azkadelia giggled at it as Cain obliged the puppy with a tickling caress. A hill-guarder would grow up to be a fairly large, solidly built white dog, with a sweet face, a thick ruff of fur, and a bushy tail. The breed was also well known for its devotion to its master, and had been known to defend its master unto death. It was a perfect choice for a princess with more enemies than friends.

"What will you name it?" Cain asked Azkadelia.

"I'm not sure yet. DG has the most ridiculous suggestions, things like 'Rover'. I'm trying to find out his personality first, before I commit to a name."

The puppy abandoned Cain at the sound of Azkadelia's voice, leaping up onto her lap to lick at her face.

"Well, good to see he's a one-princess-dog," Cain told her with a smile.

TBC

_A/N : All the motorcycle model information was researched online. I used to work in a place that catered to the biker crowd, so some of it I already knew. The Hill-Guarder of the Outer Zone is known here on the OtherSide as a Kuvasz. They grow up to be sweet, self-possessed, loyal guard dogs. Originally from Hungary, the term "kuwasz" means "nobility's armed guard". The Kuvasz's reputation for protecting its family was such that Nazi soldiers invading Hungary actively hunted down and killed the dogs._


	6. Chapter 6

DG groaned. It was more of a whine than a groan, actually, and did nothing but cause her mother to raise one perfectly shaped brow.

"Do I have to?" DG asked. She knew she sounded like a spoiled brat, but it was deliberate. And her mother the Queen could see the humor lurking in DG's eyes. The younger princess's resistance was token at best. She was perfectly willing to smile and hand out more ribbons and scrolls at the next ceremony, she just liked to pretend she hated it.

The Queen's lips quirked just a little. Azkadelia hid her face in her teacup, but DG could see her shoulders shuddering with giggles.

"I'm afraid you do, angel. And you'll need an escort."

DG shrugged. "Well, that'll be Cain, of course." The Queen and Azkadelia exchanged glances. DG caught them at it. "What?"

"My dear," the Queen began, setting aside her paperwork and making much show of pouring tea. "My dear, you must consider that perhaps Mr. Cain might not enjoy these ceremonies."

"But, he's head of security."

Azkadelia joined in. "For the whole Royal family, DG, not just you."

DG frowned. She never really thought about how much of Cain's time she monopolized.

Whenever she wanted to go out for a bike ride, Cain was available. Whenever she had to make some formal appearance, Cain escorted her. Whenever she just wanted to hang out by the lake and skip stones, Cain had time to chat with her. DG sort of felt like Cain had become her best friend. He was just always around, always there for her.

DG sat silently, mulling over the idea that Cain might not want to escort her. Unbeknownst to her, Azkadelia started to say something, but the Queen gave her eldest a gentle nudge of her toes before Az could speak.

Finally, DG looked up. "I suppose I ought to ASK him if he has time? Would that be better?"

"That will be acceptable," the Queen agreed.

"OK, I'll go ask him now." DG jumped up and left the room.

"Mother, what was that all about?" Azkadelia immediately asked. "You know perfectly well that Sir Wyatt will do anything DG asks."

The Queen smiled, stirring her tea. "Yes darling, I do. But I don't want DG taking him for granted. They grow closer every day, but she's simply not seeing him as anything more than a friend."

Azkadelia thought about that as she slipped a petit-four to her white shadow seated under her chair. The hill-guarder, named at long last 'Mir', accepted the tidbit daintily. "So, does that mean we're helping Sir Wyatt win DG's affections?"

The Queen sipped her tea, but her lavender eyes sparkled at her elder daughter. "Yes, it does."

* * *

"Hey, Cain!" DG called, walking into Cain's office. He handed some correspondence to the waiting courier and waved the man away.

"Hey there, princess. What can I do for you?" Cain asked with a small smile. He loved that DG was so relaxed with him. Just as he expected, she crossed to his desk and jumped up to sit on it.

"So, I have to go to this festival thingie in Central City this weekend," she began, idly toying with the pens on his desk.

"Yes. And?" he prompted.

"Well, Mother kind of implied that I shouldn't just assume that you'd go as my escort, so I'm here to officially ask you."

Cain smirked. "Ask me what?"

DG rolled her eyes, leaning over to poke his shoulder. "I'm asking, will you be my escort for the festival?"

Cain smiled outright. "I'd be honored, Princess DG."

"Oh don't be like that. It's not like it's going to be any different than the last one. I go, I hand out a ribbon or three, smile, shake hands, act all royal and gracious. You get to stand with me and glare at people and look all imposing, as usual."

Cain leaned back in his chair. "I don't glare at people."

DG grinned. "Yes you do. You terrify people. No one would even THINK of harming me with you around. No one else even asks me to dance."

"Do you want to dance with other people?" Cain asked. He rather wondered if he was too obviously protective of her. What if he was actually smothering her? But she'd come to him, to ask him to escort her….

"No, but that's beside the point. I mean, I like dancing with you. But you know, at some point Mother is going to make me dance with some nobleman. Politics." She swung her legs, then hopped off the desk. "Anyway, it just the usual thing, like it has been for months now. At least with you there, I won't go nuts from boredom. Are we still on for a ride this afternoon?"

"Three o'clock."

"Ok, see you later." DG waved and left.

Cain sat back again in his chair and pondered his options. Of course, he would go as her escort, he always did. No one had found a way to restore Glitch's brain, so he couldn't be relied upon to stay quiet or attentive. Of course, Cain trusted Glitch to protect DG, but by the same token, the headcase had grown more than a little attached to the elder princess. Glitch could be petulant if he was forced away from Azkadelia. Raw was loyal and attentive, but not terribly good in a fight. No, when it came to protection, Cain was DG's best bet.

However, Cain wondered at the Queen's motivation for getting DG to ask him, rather than just functioning on assumptions. He wanted to be there for DG. He liked that she turned to him, confided in him. They talked and joked and spent time together. He especially enjoyed their rides on the veloci-bikes. DG would grin fiercely and lean over the bike, clinging like a burr on a horse's back, the wind whipping her hair into a banner behind her as they sped through the woods. She handled the bike the same masterful way that gifted horsemen handled their mounts. Watching her never failed to excite him. He was lucky he could easily blame his flush on the wind.

Thinking about it now made him shift in his chair, and scoot closer to the desk to hide his reactions. DG so often seemed to be completely unconscious of the erotic image she sometimes made. He had difficulty resisting the urge to just grab her and….

Maybe this festival was the perfect opportunity. He sorted through the paperwork on his desk until he found the information. There would be a parade, and then a short performance, then a dinner with City dignitaries and a semi-formal ball. Nothing on the scope of the nobles' balls, but nicer than the country parties Cain himself had attended with his late wife. No other member of the Royal Family was scheduled to attend except DG. That meant a day and a half of just the two of them. And part of that was an overnight stay in the Royal Compound in the City.

This was definitely the chance Cain needed to make DG see him as more than just her friend.

* * *

"So, did he accept your invitation?" Azkadelia asked.

"Yeah, of course he did," DG answered. She did a little twirl and asked the seamstress, "Is that hem even?" The two princesses and their own seamstress were in DG's rooms. DG was having the final fitting for her gown for the Central City Arts Festival. It was made of emerald colored satin, of course, the traditional color for everything having anything to do with Central City. Cap sleeved, a deep vee neck, and ankle length, the aptly-designed princess seamed gown swished as DG moved.

"Hair up or down?" she asked Az.

"Up. Jewels?"

"Hadn't thought about it."

"Ask Mother if you can borrow her emerald and diamond silver set."

The seamstress indicated she had re-pinned the hem, and DG began to slip off the gown.

"Do be sure to have a vest tailored to match for Sir Wyatt," Azkadelia ordered the seamstress, who bowed and departed.

DG frowned. "Cain doesn't have to match me." She tied a robe on and sat in the chair next to Az.

"Of course he does, sweet, he's your escort." Az poured them both lemonade.

"He never had to match me before," DG protested.

Az sighed. "Before, he merely acted as your bodyguard. For this event, he is your sanctioned escort. It's appropriate for the event that he dress to match."

DG blinked, then set down her glass rather hard. "Whoa! This is a DATE!"

"I beg your pardon? What does the date have to do with anything?"

"It's a thing, you know, when two people who are _interested_ in each other go out together somewhere… like dinner and dancing…" DG trailed off, an expression of shock on her face. Azkadelia hid her smirk by leaning over to feed a corner of ginger cookie to Mir. "Oh no, I'm going on a DATE with Cain! Wait a minute, he must have known that's what this meant, when I asked him, right? So why did he say yes? He must have done it to humor me. That's it! All these damned traditions and things, they're a trap."

"Do you think so?" Azkadelia asked mildly. Finally! _Mother, you are brilliant,_ the elder princess thought to herself.

"Yeah, they are, because Cain wouldn't have… well no, he would have said no if he had a problem with it. He's never lied to me, and he's never had a problem telling me his opinion of things." DG twirled her hair, a terrible habit she had when thinking hard, but Az didn't chastise her now. DG was on a roll, and Az didn't want to interrupt.

"So, if this escort business is like a _courtship_ thing…. and Cain has never refused to be seen with me…oh god, everyone must think we're like a COUPLE or something! Do you think people think we're a couple?" She asked Az.

"If they do, is that a problem?" Az countered. DG gaped. "Sir Wyatt is respectable, isn't he?"

"Well, yeah!"

"Intelligent."

"Duh, Az."

"Loyal."

"And a half!"

"Noble."

"Yeah, in every way."

"Brave."

"Again, DUH!"

"Handsome."

"You're telling me!" DG rolled her eyes, but in the next second, slapped her hand over her mouth, wide-eyed and shocked at her own words.

Az couldn't help it, she laughed in DG's face. "Ah-ha! So you have thought about it! Face it, little sister. Sir Wyatt Cain is quite the catch. Trust me, if every lady in the land wasn't already sure you and he were involved, he'd have to run off to the hills to avoid them all. As it is, Jeb has already requested to never be assigned to any duty in Central City. Luckily, that Claire of his has very impressive skills with knives. And I don't mean in the kitchen."

DG flushed a deep red. "OK, I have thought about it. Who wouldn't? I mean, LOOK at him!" Az smirked. She knew exactly what DG meant. Even the Witch made mental note of Wyatt Cain when they met in the Frozen Palace. DG continued, "But turning friendship into something romantic can be a very messy business." She fell silent a minute, then said, "So, do you think he knows this is traditionally a courtship thing? Because if he does, he's going to be thinking about it too."

Az smiled behind her glass of lemonade, but said nothing. _Oh, Deeg, he's BEEN thinking about it…. you're so late to this party…._

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

_The best part of being in charge is the ability to delegate_, Cain decided abruptly. For example, since he was both DG's escort and Chief of Security today, he'd been able to delegate waking the Princess to another guard and a ladies-maid.

Judging from the maid's expression, she'd never forgive him. Judging from DG's half-awake scowl, Cain was very glad that ire was pointed elsewhere. Obviously, just-barely-dawn was a little early in the day for DG's tastes.

DG climbed into the royal carriage, ignoring his soft "good morning" with a grunt. She promptly curled up on one thickly cushioned bench seat and returned to sleep. But at least she was here, dressed, and in the carriage.

Cain gave the maid who followed an appreciative nod, and assisted her into the carriage as well. The girl's rueful expression cleared a little when she realized she got to ride in the finely appointed conveyance. It was much more comfortable than the wagon.

Cain latched the door behind them and mounted up his own horse. A last glance around told him that the guards designated to protect the carriage were ready, the wagon already loaded with DG's trunk and his own pack, plus supplies for the midday meal. Cain gave a terse order, and the caravan moved out.

DG didn't wake until they crossed the Crack in the OZ, five hours later. Once on the other side, the procession would stop for a midday meal, and then continue on towards Central City, a leg of just three hours. Just outside the city, they'd be met by another guard unit with a car and a van. The cars would take them into the City and to the Royal Compound.

"I don't get it," DG said to Cain. "Why don't we just take the horses all the way? The carriage is comfortable."

Cain shook his head. "Folks use cars in Central City. Can't have the Princess showing up by carriage, no matter how nice."

"But why not? I mean, it's not like everyone doesn't use horses outside the city! Cars are rarer outside than they are inside."

"Well, outside, roads are harder to maintain. And inside… Deeg, can you imagine if in a city that size, everyone had a horse? The daily mucking alone…"

DG wrinkled her nose and waved her hand. "OK, ok! I get it!" He chuckled at her disgusted expression. "You know," she continued with an impish smirk, "We could have ridden the bikes!"

"Where would we have put your gown, and jewels? Your maid?"

DG pretended to think about it. "Saddlebags?" Cain laughed at her again. "Seriously, Az knows that shrinking-people spell. I could have just _zip.._" She made a motion with her fingers to show the shrinking. "Shrunk everyone down, put them in a nice padded basket, and we could've ridden the bikes. It would have shaved three, maybe four hours off this mule train."

Cain just shook his head. The funniest part was that he knew she was half-serious. It was a good thing her maid was off collecting a meal, or DG might have found herself with a suspicious bald spot in the near future.

When they finally reached Central City and the Royal Compound, they were greeted by the staff. The ancient-looking butler took over directing the maid and the staff, preparing rooms and baths for DG and Cain.

"Good lord, he's ancient. Doesn't anybody ever retire here?" DG asked Cain in a low voice as they walked the halls of the Royal Compound.

Cain gave her a puzzled look. "Why would he retire?"

"Well, he's so old! Don't you think he'd want to put his feet up and relax in his old age?"

Cain realized she didn't know. "Deeg, he's a tiktok! You can't retire him, he'll think you've decided he's obsolete."

"A what?"

"A tiktok… like your Otherside parents, like the people in Milltown."

DG gaped at him, then stared at the white haired and stooped butler leading them. "He's a ROBOT?" she hissed. "Then why does he look so old?"

"Would you trust a young person to run your household? Bring your teenaged daughters their morning tea? Keep an eye on your pretty maids? He looks that way because that's more respectable."

"Oh." DG was silent for a few moments. "Thanks Cain."

"For what?"

She looked up again, and he was startled to see the genuine seriousness and gratitude in her eyes. "You help me so much, teaching me stuff I don't remember about the Outer Zone. Even more than Mother – she just teaches me government and politics. You actually explain the stuff everyone else assumes I know." She looped her arm through his, and gave him a little squeeze. "You don't expect me to suddenly be this perfect Ozian Princess. You remember that I didn't grow up here. I really appreciate that."

Cain paused, bringing them both to a halt. "Deeg…. I wouldn't want you to be perfect. I mean, I don't expect that of you. I'd rather have you be… just you." He wanted to say so much more, express more, but he didn't dare. Not quite yet.

DG's eyes went wide. She looked at him as if she'd never quite seen him before. He wondered what he'd said to earn such a look. Could she tell that he meant more than just what he'd said? Then to his amazement, her eyes glittered, like she might cry.

"Cain…. Wyatt … That may be the nicest thing you've ever said to me!" She bounced up on her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. Much to his dismay, he couldn't stop himself from blushing. Damned fair skin. But DG grinned.

The butler cleared his throat discreetly to get them moving again. As they walked, DG's hand slid down Cain's arm, and her fingers twined gently with his.

* * *

"Will there be anything else, my lord?"

Cain flinched. A manservant had been assigned to him here in the Compound. This tiktok, a middle-aged model, was unobtrusive and polite. However, Cain just wasn't entirely comfortable with his new position as a noble. He felt the weight of it particularly now, looking at himself in the mirror.

The suit was the same one he'd worn to the Victory ball. As he had expected, an emerald green brocade vest had been packed for him, instead of the silver. The Queen's medal and a military rank insignia were pinned to the left breast of the coat.

What made the difference was the gift Her Majesty had presented to him yesterday evening. He'd been surprised to be summoned to her office in Finacqua. Assuming she wanted final briefing on DG's trip the next day, he'd presented himself with a dossier of information.

But Queen Lavender had simply smiled and assured him that she was certain he had all preparations well in hand.

"Mr. Cain," she'd said, her musical voice low and full of amusement. "My husband of course related to me the purpose of your conversation with him of several weeks ago."

Cain had struggled to keep his composure. Whatever happened next, he would NOT tell his son. Jeb was already having too much fun harassing his father about "lack of forward motion". Wyatt didn't think that letting things between himself and DG develop slowly was a problem, but Jeb seemed inclined to view four months of just friendly banter as not much development at all.

"Not to worry," the Queen said, noting his unease. "I most heartily approve of you as a suitor for my daughter." Her smile turned a little wry. "I certainly set a precedent myself in my choice. We're all 'rooting for you', as my husband would say. I assume you're going to declare your intentions this weekend?"

Strangling the urge to bolt, Cain could only give her a jerky nod. Surely he'd not been this disconcerted by Adora's parents? Adora's father had glared and muttered at him, her mother had been a wispy woman with a watery smile. Perhaps youth had blinded him to their true perspectives. Surely they hadn't tortured him the way everyone here in Finacqua seemed to enjoy torturing him now.

Queen Lavender hid her smile, but not before Cain noticed it. It made him think slightly resentful thoughts about his Liege.

"Here," she said, presenting him a leather folio in a sudden change of subject. "These are the titles to the lands given by the Crown for the maintenance of the Noble House of Cain. A comfortable enough income, I believe. This however is Our especial gift to Our loyal and beloved Colonel." The slip into Royal speech caught Cain's attention, as the Queen pulled a handsome dark wooden case from a drawer. She passed it to him, and he hesitated, the wood cool and sleek in his hands. "Please," she indicated with a wave. "I do hope it suits."

Inside the case lay a formal Collar of Office. Such things were heirlooms of noble families, bestowed by the Crown to show that the noble wearer had the particular favor and trust of the ruling Queen, as well as serving in close association to the Crown. His Grace the Prince Consort wore one for state occasions. That collar was made of gold and engraved and bejeweled with the insignia of the Royal Family. This collar was far simpler, much to Cain's relief. Nestled into a bed of green velvet, the plaques of the collar were shining silver. Each individual plaque was engraved with a circle around a compass star. At the center of each star was a gleaming diamond. The engraving evoked the tin badge he'd worn, without actually being the Tin Man star. That would have been inappropriate, since he no longer served as a Tin Man. Tiny silver chain links joined each plaque to its neighbor.

He could only stare at it, missing the fond smile that curved the Queen's lips at his speechlessness. "There is no pendant, of course," she said. "At some point I'm afraid the heralds will descend upon you and your son to force you to draw up some arms. At that point, you might have a pendant added."

Lifting his eyes to her, Cain found himself unable to express his thoughts. He shook his head, but before he could protest the gift, the Queen said in a voice gentle and earnest, "Mr. Cain, you must remember that I not only see you as a suitor for my daughter's hand, but also as the man who helped her and protected her on a quest to save the whole Outer Zone. For that, I hold you in the highest esteem. Please, accept my gift."

"Majesty… I don't need a reward or gifts for doing what was right," Cain told her.

The Queen's smile broadened. "Of course not. Good men never do."

Now, looking at himself in the mirror, Cain uncomfortably realized he looked the part of a nobleman. The silver collar gleamed against his black wool coat. With a frown, he jammed his hat onto his head. Better, he decided.

* * *

DG almost missed a step and might have fallen down the stairs and landed on her face, had she not been gripping the banister so tightly. Wyatt was waiting for her, standing at the bottom of the stairs. He wore the same black suit from the Victory ball, and DG's eyes widened when she saw the fancy silver collar of office resting over his shoulders and chest. _Spectacularly well formed shoulders and chest too, you know,_ her inner voice pointed out, and she made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. Oh, she was going to absolutely KILL Az. Her maid gave her a confused and suspicious look as DG hesitated.

"Is anything wrong, Your Highness?" the girl asked.

"No! No," DG waved her hand. _Once more into the breach_, she told herself, and started down the stairs. God, he looked so handsome she could scream.

She was only halfway down when Wyatt looked up at her. She could see his eyes widen at the sight of her, and that gave her a jolt of pleasure. As she reached the bottom, he held out his hand, and when she placed her hand in his, he raised it to his lips, bowing slightly as he placed a warm kiss on her knuckles.

"Don't," she sputtered before she could stop herself.

Wyatt frowned, confused. "Don't what?"

DG shook her head. She felt shaken, disconnected. He looked stunning, gorgeous, and she couldn't seem to wrap her mind around the fact that this was the same man she'd released from a tin box, the same man who'd protected her and argued with her, and rolled his eyes at her bad jokes, and raced around the countryside beside her on their bikes. How could this suave nobleman be the same man as her rugged Tin Man? She looked up at him, and she almost gasped to realize she could see his eyes dilate as he looked at her, and she remembered learning in school that that meant he was interested in her, and she felt a rising panic, thinking _how the hell did I never notice this? He's interested in me! And oh my god, I'm interested back…_

"DG? Is everything alright?" His grip on her hand tightened a little with his concern.

She blinked, returning to the present. "Nothing! Nothing, I'm fine." She forced a smile onto her face. "You're looking good, Tin Man."

He smirked. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Princess."

Comforted by his easy banter, her smile turned genuine. Wyatt tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and escorted her through the compound atrium. Walking so close to him, DG could feel the warmth of his body, even smell his scent, and even though she spoke pleasantly enough, a part of her mind was busy running in excited circles, realizing that the day's event had gone from another boring royal appearance function thing to an actual DATE. DG didn't have a lot of experience dating, her Robo-parents hadn't particularly encouraged her to pass time with any young men. Of course, she understood why now, but it did mean that she felt a jolt of nervousness. _What if I say something totally stupid, and he realizes I'm just some dorky Other-side raised idiot and changes his mind?_ She managed to keep her inner madness off her face as Wyatt helped her into the limousine.

_And when the hell did he go from being 'Cain' to 'Wyatt'?_ she wondered.

* * *

Cain's heart felt like it turned over when he saw her, descending the stairs with a dreamy expression on her face. She looked like a storybook princess, even though he knew his outrageous DG was still in there.

A little carried away by her beauty, he'd kissed her hand, but that seemed to throw everything off for a moment. She apparently hadn't appreciated that, and he stomped down hard on his own emotions. _Don't push it,_ he reminded himself. Oh, Jeb might harass him for going slow, but Wyatt could tell DG didn't even think of him that way yet.

Until that very moment, when she blinked, as if seeing him for the first time, and she looked up at him, and there was a slight wondering expression in her face, reminiscent of that wide-eyed look he'd seen so often in the early days, as if she couldn't believe something someone just told her. Then she smiled, and let him lead her to the car, walking so close to one another, their bodies brushing as they moved.

As they got into the car, she seemed amused by something, and he wondered what. A corner of him worried she was amused by him, as if to think he couldn't possibly be worthy of her, that his courting her was a joke, and he viciously squashed that notion. His DG would never be that cruel. But he decided then that he couldn't take much more waiting. It would have to be tonight. He would have to make her see him at last, and find out if he had a chance at winning her heart.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh. My. God." DG muttered to Wyatt in a low voice of horrified amusement. Wyatt cleared his throat abruptly to keep from laughing. The spectacle of the Emerald City Arts Festival was a paean of poor taste.

First of all, many people seemed to have a difficult time with the concept of the color "emerald". The sea of green clothing ranged from bright lime green to dark forest pine. Moreover, there seemed to be some unspoken competition amongst the "City Fathers" with their hats. Towering stovepipe top hats of black velvet and green satin bands competed with pulsing bright green wool bowlers, and even the occasional bicorn. DG even spotted a green velvet fez with a jaunty black tassel.

The women were both better and worse. While one could only go so far in the design of a gown, the sheer volume of ruffles and variety of rosettes staggered the imagination. Fortunately, none of the City dignitaries knew Princess Dorothigale well enough to recognize the expression on her smiling face as anything other than wide-eyed pleasantry, but Wyatt could see the unholy gleam in her eyes, as she was introduced to one overly-made up matron after another.

The preponderance of green eye shadow alone would have DG howling in laughter for weeks. Particularly on the men.

Finally, they were seated on a dais to review the parade and street performance. Under the pretence of arranging her skirts, DG leaned towards Wyatt and whispered, "They're all on vapors, right? That's the only explanation."

Wyatt smirked, dropping his chin in his usual trick to hide his expression under the brim of his hat. "You know, the whole city used to be painted emerald green, a hundred years ago or so. So it's tradition."

"There's nothing traditional about rotten taste."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "You can laugh, just don't point."

DG elbowed him for that as the parade began.

* * *

DG was able to relax as the pure absurdity of the event overwhelmed her. Fortunately, every time she found something particularly ridiculous, she could see the same thoughts gleaming in Wyatt's eyes as well. It made her feel even more warmly towards him, as if they were fellow conspirators, the only two sane people in the asylum.

The theme of the parade seemed to be the story of Great-Granny Dorothy's adventures. Each float represented a different part of the tale. Since the Princess – the honored guest and even named for the great Dorothy herself! – had pride of place on the reviewing stand, none of the other City Fathers and their wives sat close enough to hear the occasional snorts of laughter DG could not completely suppress. She'd come a long way from the Kansas grease-monkey, learning to put on the cool 'royal' persona, and could almost out-princess Azkadelia sometimes, but the sheer volume of ridiculousness was taxing her composure to the extreme. Every time she let a little sputter leak out, Wyatt gave her a sideways glance, and she could tell he was as amused as she was.

_A Pride Parade on the Other Side would look subdued compared to this,_ DG thought. Each float was preceded and followed by dancers, waving flags, or flowers, or streamers, or anything they could possibly wave. The floats themselves were towering abstractions, sometimes swaying alarmingly on their platforms, bearing some hapless girl dressed in blue to represent Dorothy Gale, clinging to an artificial promontory.

The final insult to good taste came with the final float, with its water jets to melt the screeching "wicked witch". Fortunately the float designers had aimed those jets mostly vertically, and merely soaked the poor groundlings along the curb of the street, instead of the entire audience. Yet the people on the sidewalks seemed to take it all in stride, much to DG's amazement.

"It's a Who-ville parade through emerald-colored-glasses," she muttered. Wyatt shot her a thoroughly confused look, but they had no time for her to explain. Almost immediately, she was directed by the Mayor of Emerald Square, the popularly elected Master of Ceremonies for the event, towards her 'ceremonial conveyance.' The mayor, apparently a rather wealthy hotel owner, was a short, rotund, and horribly jolly fellow with receding red hair. Couple that stature with his emerald velvet suit and black velvet top hat, and DG had the sudden feeling she was being escorted through the ultimate Saint Patrick's Day event by a leprechaun. But then, she spotted the 'conveyance'.

Grabbing Wyatt's arm, she whispered, "Please tell me you don't really have green horses here!"

Wyatt looked just as surprised, and more than a little annoyed on the animals' behalf. "No, they've been… dyed, I guess." The gilded and green-laquered carriage was drawn by a pair of matched green horses. Certainly the two animals looked absolutely miserable.

"Magnificent, isn't it? Made up especially for your convenience, Your Highness!" The mayor announced, waving his arm towards the carriage like Vanna White presenting a prize, mistaking her surprise for awe.

"Why Sir Wyatt," DG said, her voice sugary sweet. "You told me that horses weren't used in Central City." Wyatt didn't say anything, just cleared his throat, though his sharp glance at DG told her that her teasing struck its mark.

The mayor shot a glance at the Princess's stern escort before saying, "Well, Your Highness, only on special occasions like this! Do you like it?"

Squashing several alternate remarks, DG simply replied, "Charming. Really."

The ride was barely two blocks. DG would have preferred to walk, but the whole 'ceremonial' end of this farce was obviously required. The mayor and his wife joined DG and Wyatt in the carriage for the trip. Mrs. Leprechaun was just as rotund and tasteless as her husband, though watery blonde rather than red.

"Fantastic parade this year, don't you think?" Mayor Leprechaun said jovially to no one in particular.

"Terribly modernist, didn't you think?" Mrs. Leprechaun said to DG in a confidential tone, fluttering her unnecessary green feather fan all around.

"Modernist? How so?" DG asked politely.

"Well, of course, so much was based on the events of several months ago…" Mrs Leprechaun simpered. DG caught on to her insinuations, that apparently the parade this year had more to do with the events surrounding the Eclipse than the legends of Dorothy Gale.

Rather than encourage the analysis, DG replied, "Well, I shall have to attend next year, so that I can see a more traditional rendition." This time it was Wyatt who made the soft noise, suppressing his laughter. "Oh look, we've arrived." DG made sure to step on Wyatt's foot as he helped her down from the carriage. He winked back, his crooked smirk barely concealed.

The dinner and Grand Ball was held in the very hotel owned by Mayor Leprechaun, and the prestige of it all puffed the man up until DG was sure his vest buttons would pop. She had to bite her cheek to keep from grinning at the idea of those silver buttons zinging across the room, knocking out other puffed up attendees.

Dinner was served, and the wine began to flow. DG carefully sipped, watching the other guests get inebriated. Wyatt didn't drink at all.

* * *

Wyatt had forgotten what an event like this could be like. The last time he'd attended one was more than ten annuals ago, as a part of the Mystic Man's detail, and at that time, he'd been able to lurk on the edges. Now he was in the thick of things with DG.

Sure enough, as he'd expected, the guests were imbibing far more wine than their food could absorb. He noticed DG wisely only sipped at her wine, and he himself kept to water. He caught her glance and smile, a sweet version of her usual smirk that seemed to be only for him. She was his beautiful oasis in the madness around them.

Soon people were talking loudly and drinking freely. A fellow to Wyatt's right was ranting about trade with the fringe zones, gesticulating widely enough with his wine glass, he was in danger of spilling it all over his wife's décolletage.

To DG's left, the mayor was speaking to her earnestly about the revitalization of Central City, and DG's attentive expression seemed thoroughly genuine.

Until she kicked Wyatt under the table with a glance that clearly begged for rescue.

"Excuse me, Mr. Tappelbaum," Wyatt interrupted the man's lecture. "Isn't it about time for the dancing to start?"

The mayor blinked owlishly for a moment, then sat his glass down with a thump. "By thunder, you're right! I'm paying for this band, ought to get my money's worth, eh? By thunder, Lord Cain, you're a right solid man!" Clambering to his feet, he reclaimed his wife from her chirping conversation with some other woman, and started shouting, "Music! Music! Let's have some dancing!"

DG turned to Wyatt, her face both wildly amused and grateful. Wyatt held out his hand to her. "Let's dance, Princess," he said.

She grinned and grabbed his hand happily.

Once on the dance floor, they could talk freely as they moved through a waltz. "Thank you! I thought I wasn't going to make it," DG whispered.

"It's only going to get crazier," Wyatt warned her. "You know, you're going to have to dance with Tappelbaum and a few of the others."

"I have to dance with the leprechaun? Oh brother…" She made a face, and he chuckled. "Hey, that means you have to dance with his wife!"

"I know."

DG made a face. "OK, let's plan out our strategy here. I'm not dancing with any of the creepy ones."

"Which ones are the creepy ones?"

"All of the rest."

Wyatt struggled to suppress his grin. "Don't worry. If anyone gets grabby, I'll shoot them for you, alright?"

DG fluttered her lashes at him. "My hero!"

They whispered and laughed quietly together until the song finished. DG submitted to dancing the next with Mayor Leprechaun with good grace, while Wyatt steered a simpering, graceless Mrs. Leprechaun around the floor. Around them, couples danced and talked, and the volume grew louder and louder.

Together again on the floor, DG pointed out to Wyatt two women wearing identical gowns. Like spectators at some sport, they watched with amusement as the women confronted one another. Several moments of snooty sniping later, they were separated by their harried husbands.

Several dignitaries took over a table right next to the floor, and lit up several cigars together. DG winced every time she and Wyatt passed by, and Wyatt started to keep them to the far side of the floor. But DG still had to dance with other City Fathers.

Wyatt could tell the moment DG had had enough. Something changed on her face, something that turned her smile from amused to fake. He couldn't tell what it was, though he could see it from across the dance floor. But just as he was about to cut into the dance and get her away from whatever was upsetting her, a voice boomed "Wyatt Cain!" behind him.

Turning, he found himself confronted with a tall and square built man wearing a black suit and green bowler atop his bald head. A golden Tin Man star gleamed on his breast.

"Chief." Wyatt acknowledged laconically. He hadn't gotten along much with Cecil Palmetti when they'd both been on the force, back before the Sorceress took over Central City. Palmetti had been suspiciously absent that last day as the Witch's Longcoats stormed through the streets, though obviously his reputation stayed clean enough to rise to Chief of Police.

Chief Palmetti eyed Cain a moment, his eyes flicking down to the silver Collar of Office briefly. "'Spose I oughta address you as My Lord now, huh?" Wyatt could tell from the man's slight rocking motion that he'd tied on a few this evening.

"Doesn't matter to me," Wyatt replied with a shrug. The two Tin Men eyed each other. Wyatt remembered Palmetti as a belligerent drunk, and he kept his posture relaxed and easy, lest something set the other man off. Even as Chief, it was clear Palmetti had self-control issues. Wyatt doubted his administration would last too long.

Just when the stand off had to snap, a soft voice interrupted.

"Sir Wyatt," DG said in a stiff voice, laying a hand on his arm. She said nothing more, merely stood by him, looking coolly at Palmetti.

"Your Highness, allow me to present to you Cecil Palmetti, Chief of Central City Police," Wyatt introduced the drunken man smoothly.

DG expectantly extended her hand. "Mr. Palmetti." Her voice was as cool as the Queen's could be.

Palmetti blinked at her a moment, then said rudely, "You're the princess?" Wyatt barely restrained a growl at the man's disbelieving tone. He felt DG's hand tighten slightly on his arm.

"You're the Chief Tin Man?" DG's voice was as politely disbelieving as Palmetti's had been rudely so. Wyatt shot DG a look. He didn't want her stirring things up with a drunken Palmetti.

Before he could intervene, Palmetti made a rude snort and reached out to poke Wyatt hard in the shoulder. "Never thought to see you hiding behind a skirt, Cain!"

Angry now, Wyatt started to take a step forward, but DG was faster. Her open-handed slap across Palmetti's face rocked his head to the side, and the smacking sound drew the attention of half the ballroom. Before the man could completely recover, DG smacked him again, even harder. Even with her palm, she had a mean cross. Unbalanced, the drunken man staggered a few feet.

"One for insulting me, one for insulting Sir Wyatt Cain," she hissed at him, then turned. Tapplebaum stood nearby, jaw hanging open in shock. "Mr. Tapplebaum, We've had a lovely evening, but We believe it's time to retire. Do convey Our regards to your lovely wife." The switch had been thrown, it was Princess Dorothigale again. Her use of the royal We had everyone, so informal moments ago, reminded that they were in the Royal Presence. Tapplebaum bowed awkwardly, as did several others.

"Sir Wyatt?" The Princess prompted, and though still a little shocked, Wyatt managed to remain stone-faced as he offered her his arm and led her out. A glance over his shoulder showed several city dignitaries glaring at Palmetti, and Wyatt guessed the Cheif would be turning in his resignation in the morning.

Next to him, Wyatt could feel DG shivering with suppressed anger. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes flashed. She was infuriated on his behalf, and despite the possible repercussions of her actions, Wyatt felt a completely inappropriate surge of glee. _That's my girl_, he thought affectionately. He made a mental note to have Glitch teach her hand to hand combat. He signaled the other Royal Guards on detail, and the limousine pulled up promptly.

* * *

Once inside the car, away from any eyes, DG felt her composure start to crack. Wyatt sat next to her, so close she could feel him, though they didn't touch.

Mortification set in when she realized she was about to start crying. Adrenaline had been running so high, and now she was coming down off that. She could tell Wyatt was shooting her glances, though she kept staring straight ahead.

Eventually, he said quietly, "Princess?"

But she just kept her lips pressed together and shook her head. She couldn't get into it now, she'd come apart.

_How DARE they?_ she thought viciously. _I worried that the other nobility of the Zone might snipe at him, but I expected normal people to be happy for him! How dare that big fat drunken jerk act like Wyatt was beneath him, call him a coward. _She'd been dancing with some local politician when she'd overheard people talking about Wyatt, calling him 'jumped up' or worse, 'princess's lapdog'. She'd caught a few women looking at her and snickering, and she suddenly wasn't having fun anymore. She hadn't been thinking about what it looked like for her to be so close to Wyatt all the time. Now these people, these horrible tasteless people were snickering at her, at him, but it didn't make her feel ashamed, it made her angry. She left her dance partner on the floor the moment the music stopped, only to find some jerk getting all in-your-face with Wyatt.

Back in Kansas, DG never dated much. Oh, she'd have a couple of dates here and there, guys who'd ask her out because they thought she was so desperate she'd be easy. _Look at the poor lonely grease-monkey chick, I bet she'll be so grateful…_ When they found out she wasn't about to climb into the bed of their pickup with them, or that she knew more about cars than they did, they generally stopped calling.

Wyatt was different. It wasn't just that he was older – that really never made much of an impression on DG. It was that he seemed to like her for HER, no caveats, no expectations.

But when that jerk effectively called Wyatt a pansy, DG's anger at all the snotty morons whispering, and her instinctive defense of her friends came together in her head, and she just lashed out. She snapped. Nevermind that a princess should never do such a thing. Never mind that she'd cause a scandal that'll be talked about for weeks.

Nevermind that by doing what she did, she pretty much confirmed that jerk's insinuations. Of course, she didn't see it like that until now, sitting here stewing in her own juices, with Wyatt so quiet beside her, but damn it, didn't she have the right to stand up for her friends?

The limo pulled into the Royal compound and stopped. Wyatt helped her climb out of the car, his hand still warm against hers. She didn't dare to meet his eyes, afraid she'd see annoyance or disappointment there. She slipped her hand free of his as soon as she could, and heard him sigh heavily. But he just followed her into the foyer.

She started towards the stairs, trying to ignore Wyatt who kept close. Then suddenly, she felt his hand press against her back, his fingers splayed wide to direct her off to the side. She didn't resist as he steered them into a quiet salon off the main foyer.

"DG, we have to talk about this…" he said quietly, gently, and it was her turn to sigh heavily, resigned to the scolding she knew she deserved.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Wyatt gently directed DG towards a chair, but she didn't sit. She just stood with her head hanging. He frowned, not liking this one bit. She looked like she expected a scolding, but it wasn't Wyatt's place to scold her for any of her actions. He wasn't her father, for Ozma's sake! Since she wouldn't sit, neither did he.

He waited, hoping she'd start. When she didn't he gently asked, "What happened?"

Her eyes flicked up to his face. "What? You saw what I did."

"Not that! Though I have to admit, that was pretty entertaining." He let some of his amusement and pride creep into his voice, and her eyes narrowed. "Palmetti's reputation will never recover." DG still looked suspicious, like she didn't quite believe he was on her side. "But you were steaming when you walked up. What happened?"

She made a face. "I was dancing with one of those dignitaries, when we passed by a group of women. And I don't know, they all looked so snarky, it caught my attention."

"Snarky?"

"Yeah, snarky. You know, like they knew something important, and were proud of it, and smug."

"Alright, snarky." Sometimes DG's Other-Side-isms were more appropriate than he'd expected. "What were they snarky about?"

"The next time we went by, I tried to hear what they were saying." Her expression turned furious. "They were talking. About us. They were…. those bitches!" She was suddenly shouting, and Wyatt was completely taken aback by the ferocity of her anger. "They were talking about me, and about you, and about how you must be… I can't even repeat what they said! And of course, I couldn't confront them, because I wasn't supposed to be able to hear them!" She started pacing. "All these people who sat back and covered their asses while the O.Z. came apart around them, now so busy congratulating themselves on coming through the Sorceress's reign with their fortunes intact, so goddamned worried about trade and progress and profits, all so horrible and petty and ugly! Like Ferengi in goddamned green suits!" Wyatt didn't understand part of that, but he didn't dare interrupt her. "And then…. and then I come over to you, and all I want to do is get the hell out of there, I'm ready to BEG you to get me out of there, and what do I find? Some big fat drunk jerk-off getting all up in your face! And what's worse, he's a TIN MAN!" Her voice broke on the last, and Wyatt realized suddenly that DG had harbored some idealized image of the Central City Police, some mental ideal that the boorish Palmetti had shattered. "Tin Men are supposed to be good men, honest, reliable, noble! Instead I find out the Chief is a drunk and a jackass! Then he called you a coward, and I just couldn't take it anymore. Everything had just turned so horrible, I just lashed out."

He nodded, understanding the slow burn she'd started on during that last dance that led to the rather remarkable smacking of Palmetti. "Still, you really shouldn't have done that, DG." Wyatt told her with a sigh.

"He had it coming to him!" she cried.

"You don't have to defend me, DG, it's not your place to do it."

"So what?" DG snapped, "You get to defend ME from the jerks and the drunks, but I don't get to defend you? What the hell kind of a relationship is this?" She threw up her hands.

Wyatt had started to formulate a response, but lost it when DG said 'relationship'. He just stared at her. So the idea HAD entered her mind, after all. After a moment of unexpected silence from him, he could see DG mentally reviewing her words.

"Um," she continued tiredly. "You know, there really ought to be a spell to keep me from saying things without thinking..."

"Relationship? Do we have a relationship, DG?" Wyatt questioned carefully.

She slumped into a chair, covering her face with her hands. "Never mind me," she said, the sound muffled. "I'm just freaked out and tired. We were having such fun."

Wyatt knelt beside the chair, and gently pulled one of her hands away from her face, so he could hold it with both of his. "Deeg….." he prompted softly, but she wouldn't meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. And you're right, I shouldn't have hit that oaf either. But I still say he had it coming to him." She shifted, like she wanted to get away. "I'm tired. Can we just call it a night?"

"No. Talk to me, DG. What's going on in that head of yours?"

She shook her head. "It was just a verbal slip. I mean, with the whole escort business, and me having to ask you formally and all, and what that means, you know, and ….." She trailed off. At last she turned to look at him, and he couldn't hold back the little smirk. Her eyes narrowed at his expression. "You do know, don't you? You knew all along what people were saying!" Her voice turned accusatory, and she pulled her hand away from his. "You knew people were talking about us, what they thought. All this time, you knew, and you didn't warn me, and you let it go on! You let me ask you to be my escort formally, knowing what that would mean to everybody!" Fired up once more, she jumped out of the chair to pace again.

Now Wyatt had no hope of holding back his smirk, watching her work it out. He was half tempted to sit in the chair and relax, and just watch, but that might earn him a smack as well. Instead he rose and stood, waiting patiently for her to get to the point. He knew she would soon.

"Why would you do that, Cain? Why? People are gossiping about us, and they're so mean about it! I hate that, I hate people gossiping. Why didn't you warn me? Why would you let everyone think that we were together? Unless…" She froze, and turned her wide blue eyes on him with that shocked expression he knew so well.

His expression was more of a warm wry smile now than a smirk. He didn't want to say anything, hoping she'd work it out on her own, but he sensed if he didn't prompt her, she'd never admit it. "Yes, I wanted people to think we were together. That way, I didn't have to worry about some fringe zone princeling trying to come along and sweep you off your feet."

"But… why… why would you care?"

"Deeg. All this time, you really didn't guess?" He held out his hand to her, hoping she'd come to him.

She shook her head vigorously, and his heart plummeted to think that she was rejecting him. "No… I didn't….Cain, you're my best friend!" she protested.

"So?"

"So, no! Bad! Friendships are ruined when they turn to romance!"

Wyatt frowned. "Where'd you get that nonsense? Deeg, do you really think your mother and your father aren't friends? In all the successful relationships you've ever seen, that the two people aren't friends? DG, Love is all about friendship! What good would being in love with someone be if you didn't like them enough to spend your time with them?"

Impossibly, her eyes got wider. "Love? You love me?"

Wyatt sighed. "Of course I do, sweetheart."

"Oh." Her face flushed. DG hesitated, and then smiled. "I'm pretty sure I love you too… Wyatt."

Wyatt smiled and answered, "Well, come here, then." At last she took his hand, and he pulled her close, into his arms. For a moment, he just held her, savoring the feeling of having her for his own, this bright young woman, who brought him back to life, rescued him from horror and gave him back his purpose, his honor, his heart. Then, when she tilted her face up to him, he touched his lips to hers.

At first, their kiss was everything sweet and warm. But then DG shifted, pressing herself against him, changing the angle of the kiss, and suddenly, it turned passionate. Her hands tightened on his arms, her fingers digging into him, and Wyatt was vividly reminded that not only was DG bright with light and sweet warmth, she was also strong and sassy, and sexy and tough, and everything he could ever want in a woman all bundled into one beautiful package. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer.

When the kiss finally ended, they both took a moment just to breathe. DG's eyes were a little glassy, and Wyatt assumed his own expression might be a little foolish too.

"Wow," DG breathed. "OK, this could be very good."

Wyatt chucked. "I'm glad you think so, since I'm never letting you go."

DG pretended to consider that carefully, before grinning and saying cheerfully, "OK, I can live with that."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

DG leaned out the window of the carriage, just to take a peek at Wyatt where he rode ahead. They'd crossed the Crack in the OZ and would be back to Finacqua within a few hours. Satisfied with a few moments to fill her eyes with Wyatt's shape, she sat back again. The maid riding with her gave her a smirking glance, then returned to her embroidery.

The previous night had been a roller coaster of emotions for DG. First the hilarity of the Arts Festival, then the fury, and then finally her conversation with Wyatt, and that flooding feeling of _rightness_ that filled her when she'd told him she thought she loved him, hearing that he loved her too. He didn't mind her hesitation, her less than total agreement to romantic bliss. After all, she was still getting used to the idea. But she liked it a lot.

Certainly, Wyatt's behavior was a major bonus. After that first kiss, they'd shared a few more, but there was absolutely no pressure about it. Wyatt was the soul of patience, apparently. At first, DG had a lot of dumb ideas about "making out" and such, so the slow, comfortable intimacy of kissing Wyatt had required some adjustment on her part. Just not giggling alone was difficult. It was foolish giggling, though, the sort DG always got when she was really happy. When she'd giggle, he would smile and wait her out, or tease her about it.

Not too much later, he'd walked her to her room, giving her one last kiss.

"You planned this, didn't you?" she asked him. He grinned and nodded. She rolled her eyes at him. "Dare I ask for how long?"

"Since about a week after the eclipse."

"Good grief!" She stared up at him, surprised. "That long? I mean…. You….."

He brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Deeg, I was falling for you by the time we were separated in the Realm. I thought for sure you could see right through me when we said our goodbyes at the tower. But you didn't seem to notice. I wouldn't have even considered trying to get you to see me as more than a friend," he sighed and winced a little, "Until my meddling son had to stick his nose in my business."

"So…. I have Jeb to thank?" DG asked with a teasing smile.

"You do that, and his ego will be so puffed up, he won't be able to get through the door," he warned her while she laughed. He drew her closer, not to kiss, but just to hold. "You sure you're alright with this?"

DG snuggled into him. "Not only am I alright, it's getting better every minute."

He smiled, running his hand over her cheek again, and through her hair. "Goodnight, Princess." The warmth of his voice turned the title into an affectionate nickname as he released her. With a last goofy grin, DG stepped into her room and closed the door.

In the morning, he'd greeted her affectionately. He didn't kiss her, because there were other people present, servants and guards, and DG immediately felt like she'd missed out on something. _Can a person get addicted to kissing someone?_ she wondered.

The servants had them packed and ready to go with efficiency, though it wasn't nearly as early in the day as yesterday's start. DG felt like the whole Outer Zone was new and exciting today, and she couldn't help the grin that covered her face every time her gaze met Wyatt's.

"You look happy," he observed.

"I am happy. Very happy." She took his hand and squeezed it briefly. Suddenly remembering her high school English class, she quoted, "_O brave new world, that has such people in't._" His brows rose. "Shakespeare," she explained. "We should definitely import some Shakespeare from the Other Side."

"If you say so," he agreed, helping her into the car.

* * *

"My darling!" The Queen greeted her returned daughter with a smile and a hug. "How did you enjoy the festival?" DG's expression made her mother laugh. "I see. Well, you can tell me all about it at supper."

"Sure," DG agreed. She glanced over at Wyatt, who was speaking to the guards. Servants hurried off with their bags, and the carriage rolled away. DG wondered what she should say about the understanding she and Wyatt had reached.

However, the Queen's wise eyes didn't miss that little glance, and she controlled her amused smirk magnificently. "And Sir Wyatt? Did he enjoy himself?"

DG blushed. "Yeah, we had a great time."

"Excellent. Well, I'm sure you'll want to walk about a bit before supper, to stretch your legs. It's a terribly long and tedious ride, isn't it? I will see you in a little while." She placed a kiss on her daughter's brow and turned to reenter the palace. Just before she did, she caught Sir Wyatt's eye, and gave him a little smile and nod. She looked forward to making the announcement of their betrothal.

Wyatt bowed a little to the Queen as she left, then turned to DG. She smiled at him. "Mother says I ought to stretch my legs a bit, since the ride was so long."

He nodded. "Probably a good idea."

"You wanna go with me?"

"Where were you going to go, down by the lake?"

DG's smile turned a little mischevious. "Actually, I was thinking the hedge maze."

"Oh? Change of scenery? Or…. the fact that it's quiet, secluded, and unlikely to harbor any other wanderers?"

DG's grin was all the reasoning Wyatt needed.

* * *

Lavender watched from a window, smiling, as her daughter and the man who loved and protected her wandered off together. After a moment, she went in search of her husband.

Ahamo looked up as soon as she entered the study. "Well?" he asked eagerly. At her nod, he chuckled. "Let them tell us officially before you start making an invitation list," he suggested, and her laugh and blush told him he'd hit the nail on the head. He pulled her into his lap, and they hugged each other in delight over their daughter's good fortune and happiness.

They sat together a moment, and then Lavender said, "So, what happens next for them?"

Ahamo grinned. "Well, there's a saying about it on the Other Side."

"Oh?"

"Yep. _And they lived happily ever after."_

The End.


End file.
